On Our Own
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: Molly wants Hermione in the family, but she has her own way of going about it. One-shot. R&R!


DISCLAIMER: Still own nothing.

On Our Own

The tool shed was cramped and crowded, the air musty as dust flew from each item they accidentally bumped into.

"We should really be getting inside," Hermione Granger murmured as lips attached themselves to her neck. A whimper escaped her lips when the soft lips left her.

"Yes, you sound exactly like someone longing for a home cooked Weasley family supper." Her brown eyes scanned the face of the man in front of her - the fiery red locks that she loved to run her fingers through, eyes as blue as the Atlantic that she drowned in with each look, the 22 freckles that she'd counted one night while he slept.

"Fred Weasley, I'm not going to get in trouble with your mother," she spoke as his mouth moved deftly over the column of her throat. "Besides, someone is bound to notice we're missing."

Fred groaned, resting his forehead against her own. "My mum has magically crammed 22 people into the living room alone. From what I can tell, at least four of them are here specifically to meet you. You will be missed. Me, not so much."

"Please don't make me go in there," she said, putting on her sweetest voice all while placing soft kisses on any inch of skin she could reach. "Besides, I'll miss you."

His hearty chuckle made his chest vibrate. "Weren't you, not a minute ago, saying we have to go in there? That they'll miss us? Finally tired of being set up with every available Weasley Mum can find?"

Hermione nodded her head against his chest, enjoying the last few moments of contact she would have with the redhead for the rest of the night.

"Ya know, we could just...oh I don't know...tell her that we're together," Fred suggested, a slight bite colored his words.

"They'd never believe that," Hermione grumbled, moving towards the door as she straightened out her clothes. "Might as well get this evening over with."

Fred watched as his girlfriend walked out of the shed towards the house. They'd been keeping their relationship a secret for six months. Everyone always thought she'd be with Ron, his dopey younger brother. Even she had believed that until that one fateful night when she walked into Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes to see Ron and some random blonde snogging against a shelf of skiving snack boxes. Hermione waited until she reached the storeroom before tears streaked down her face. It was the sound of sobs that alerted Fred to the addition in the room. He'd reached for her, holding her tight, telling her what an idiot his little brother was, that she was too good for him.

After Mrs. Weasley found out that Ron and Hermione were no longer together, she took it upon herself to ensure the young witch a place in her family. According to Fred, there were 46 single Weasley males for Hermione to choose from. He was bitter when he pointed out that apparently his mother was overlooking her own children. That was the first time she kissed him. Then she told him they couldn't tell anyone.

That had lasted for six months.

Fred pushed away from the work bench they had been leaning against and walked over to the house. It was stiflingly crowded when he entered the kitchen.

"Where have you been?" he heard his mother yell over the din. Everyone turned to look at Fred, fixing him with disapproving looks.

"Sorry, Mum," he muttered, kissing her cheek. "I had some stuff to take care of."

Molly Weasley reached out to pat her son's cheek, not failing to notice the look of contempt in his blue eyes. "Dinner will be ready soon," she told him, slipping back into her usual jovial attitude.

"Who'd you set Mione up with this time?" he asked, jerking his head toward his girl and whichever family member was sitting far too close for anyone's comfort.

Molly followed his gaze that settled on the stout redhead on Hermione's left. "That is your cousin Mickey," she told him. "Guess you haven't met him yet."

Fred nodded, trying to look disinterested. "And, umm, how many relatives do we have left for you to set her up with before you give in?"

The cross look on his mother's face should have told him to back off. Come hell or high water, he knew, Molly Weasley would make Hermione a part of their family. "About 13, I'd say," she told him, her tone clipped, before moving back to the stove.

Fred sighed, moving closer to the group gathered around the wireless in the living room. Mickey, completely oblivious to the death glare Hermione was shooting at him, rested his hand on the girl's thigh as he spoke to her. Fred wasn't sure why, but pride swelled somewhere inside whenever she hated the latest set up. He was always there to rescue her from the Weasley men, so long as she asked.

Hermione was getting aggravated. Her eyes flicked back and forth from Fred to Mickey and back again. Occasionally, her hand would land on the wand she kept in the sleeve of her shirt. As the hand on her leg travelled further up her thigh she shot Fred the "rescue me" look.

"Mick, mate, nice to meet you. I'm Fred," he introduced himself with a handshake, slipping in between the pair. Hermione threw him an appreciative smile while balling the back of his shirt in her hand to keep him from leaving.

Dinner was called minutes later. Both men jumped up, Fred a bit slower as Hermione was still holding the tail of his t-shirt.

"Sit next to me, Hermione." It was a demand, not a request that she heard from Mickey.

"No, Hermione, sit next to me," Fred murmured in her ear, imitating his cousin in a high-pitched voice. Hermione giggled, swatting at Fred's arm.

With her usual air of responsibility, Hermione replied, "You know I'll have to sit with him, and pretend to be interested in whatever drivel comes out of his mouth. Let's just hope his dinner doesn't come with it."

Fred laughed as they made their way to the table, Mickey already occupying a seat. "You mean like fourth cousin, thrice removed Wilbur? I think you had more of his dinner than he did."

Hermione groaned, "Don't remind me." She took the empty seat next to Mickey; Fred was so far down the opposite side she couldn't even see him. As she ate she watched the short, stocky redhead next to her. He was the type who chewed with his mouth open, but seemed to have manners enough to swallow before talking to her. He interrupted every answer she gave to each question he asked her, not really caring what she had to say.

Her eyes connected with George, who sat across from her. A small, sympathetic smile flashed across his face. He was the only who knew about his brother's relationship with the witch. A plump, freckled hand once again rested on her leg, causing her eye contact with George to be broken. Hermione's lips twitched up in a grin as she kindly asked him to move it.

A chair was pushed back and the door that led to the backyard slammed closed.

"Well, now, what was that?" Mrs. Weasley demanded, looking up and down the table at her guests. She attempted to do a head count, but lost track of just how many she had.

"Fred," George and Hermione muttered at the same time. George sent her a look that said "I'll handle it", pushed his chair away, and walked outside. He found his twin by the edge of the pond throwing rocks and pebbles into the water.

"What do you want?" Fred asked, not bothering to find out who was disrupting his aggression time.

George put a hand over his heart and feigned a look of utter sadness. "Dear brother, never in all our years..."

But Fred, whirling around to face his twin, interrupted. "Can it, George. I'm not in the mood."

"Is this about Hermione and what's his face?" George asked, trying to hide the bit of humor he knew would be evident in his voice.

"No, it's about Mum's apple pie," Fred retorted.

"Too much apple, not enough pie?" George inquired.

"Going away yet?" Fred turned back to the calming water, picked up a few rocks, and chucked them as far as he could, one by one. He could sense his twin moving closer, a comforting hand on his back that only lingered for seconds, before the splash of more rocks hit the water. They stood in silence as they watched the ripples form over the pond. "I know she doesn't like him," Fred piped up finally.

"So, then why are you letting this get to you?" George wondered. He watched his brother, younger only by minutes, move away from his side. Fred's face paled as he looked towards the house. Bouncing brown curls flew as the young witch jogged in their direction.

"Tell Hermione I went home," Fred said before Disapparating.

She was out of breath by the time she reached George. "Where'd he go? I just saw him."

"Must have been seeing double," George joked before sobering up at the glare she shot his way. "He went home." George hadn't even finished his sentence before the young witch also Disapparated.

It was that sucked through a tube, whooshing feeling that Hermione hated most about this mode of transportation; damn its efficiency. She found herself outside of the joke shop the Weasley twins owned, debating whether or not it was a good idea to go inside. Summoning her Gryffindor courage, she pushed through the front door, the bell jingling overhead, made her way to the back room and up a flight of spiraling stairs to the front door of the apartment the brothers shared. Hesitantly, she knocked, holding her breath until she saw him open the door.

Fred didn't speak as she walked past him to sit on the couch that didn't match anything else in the room. Hermione gently patted the cushion, silently asking him to join her. Her eyes watered when he didn't comply, but his composure melted at the sight. Quickly he was next to her, an arm wrapping itself around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," she murmured against his chest, a couple of stray tears leaking into the fabric beneath her head.

"I am too," he replied, his thumb wiping away any trace of moisture on her face. Fred pulled his arm away from her as he stood up. Hermione watched in a stunned, hurt silence as the man she loved walked into his bedroom, closing the door slightly. It was over, they were over. She stood, dried her cheeks with the palms of her hands, and made her way to unlock the door.

Fred emerged from his room only seconds later. "Where are you going?" He was stunned to see her preparing to leave.

"Home," was the only word she could manage before her composure broke again. Fred moved to comfort her, but Hermione's hand flew to the doorknob.

"Please don't leave," he begged. Reaching into his pocket he produced a small, black velvet box. Her tear-filled brown eyes widened at the sight of it. "I bought this about a week after we started dating. Seeing you with Ron for all those years, I was jealous of him. I thought he was the luckiest bloke on the planet because, even if you weren't together, you had each other. I wished that just once you'd look at me the way you did him. And then when you did, I knew you were it. You're the girl I'm supposed to marry."

He bent down, leaning on one knee, and grasped her hand in his. "Please, Hermione, marry me," he whispered.

"Is this...does this have anything to do with all these guys your mother has been setting me up with?" she asked.

Fred dejectedly began to stand up, but her hands on his shoulders forced him to stay in his prostrated position. "No," he replied. "Well, maybe. I can't stand the idea of you being with any other Weasley besides me. Please, pick me."

Hermione knelt down, laced her fingers threw Fred's, and kissed him tenderly. "I love you," she whispered. "I can't think of anyone else on the planet I'd pick over you."

"Not even Wilbur?" Fred inquired, quirking an eyebrow as he slipped the diamond ring on her finger. He earned a smack on the arm for that.

"Especially not Wilbur," she replied with a laugh. A tapping sound on the window tore their attention away from the very romantic moment they were sharing. Fred stood up and moved to open the window to allow Errol, the family owl entrance. He took the letter from his beak as Hermione filled a dish with water.

"Poor bird, surprised he can still fly," Fred mused as he opened the letter. "It's from Mum," he added, handing it to her.

Quickly her eyes skimmed the parchment. "It would seem we're both in a bit of trouble for ditching," she told him, continuing to read on. "Mickey enjoyed my company quite thoroughly, and asked her if he could owl me to arrange a date. What do you say, dear fiance of mine, may I date your cousin?" She meant it as a joke, but quickly regretted it as Fred's face reddened, matching his hair.

"We're telling her," Fred declared, moving towards the door. "Right now, we're going to the Burrow and telling all of them that we're together. I'm not putting this off. We shouldn't have put any of this off for as long as we did."

Hermione tugged on his arm, slowing him down. "We've been engaged for three minutes and you're already angry. Can't we just stay in tonight and celebrate before we tell the family?"

Fred turned, wrapping his arms around his fiancee, a smile alight on his face at her suggestion. "Fine, but tomorrow we're telling."

********

Hermione quietly cracked eggs into a large mixing bowl, not daring to engage Mrs. Weasley who was still mad about the previous family get together. She watched the woman she considered to be a second mother move gracefully around the kitchen bewitching the stove, magically causing the bacon to sizzle against the skillet. Mrs. Weasley hummed to herself as she set bowls, plates, glasses, mugs, and utensils around the many places at the table.

"Mickey was rather upset when you left yesterday," Mrs. Weasley stated, the last glass landing in its place. "Was rather smitten with you."

"Oh, I guess," Hermione replied, charming the eggs over to the stove to cook. "Not quite my type though."

The old witch smiled. "Well, no matter, there are plenty more for you to choose from."

"What are we choosing?" Fred asked, walking into the kitchen at that moment. He placed a delicate kiss on his mother's cheek and stole a piece of toast from the plate on the table.

His mother scowled as he munched the bread in front of her. "A suitor for Hermione," she told him.

Fred shot Hermione a look over his mother's head, only to receive a pleading look from her. He shook his head, ready to leave the kitchen.

"Actually, Mrs. Weasley, I have found someone," Hermione declared; Fred stopping dead in his tracks. He turned back and smiled at her.

Mrs. Weasley could hardly contain her excitement. "Who?"

"Fred."

"Fred who?"

Hermione and Fred both laughed. "Your son," Hermione said, as Fred's arm wrapped around her waist. "Fred," she said again, pointing to the tall redhead beside her.

Mrs. Weasley smiled, pulling Hermione into a hug. "Dear, if you weren't happy with my meddling you could have just said something."

Hermione stared, disbelievingly at the small redheaded woman as she let her go. She watched as she rounded on Fred, fire in her eyes. "And you, Fred Weasley, how many times do I have to tell you not to play tricks on your mother? I swear you and your brother will be the death of me."

"But, Mum, it's true," Fred told her, pulling Hermione's left hand from behind her back to show his mother the ring. Mrs. Weasley clasped Hermione's small hand between both of her own, shock etched across her round and rosy face. "We're sorry we didn't tell you sooner. We just thought we should keep our relationship private for a bit."

"And just how long was a bit?"

"Six months," came Hermione's meek answer; the hand still closed in her future mother-in-law's was starting to hurt.

Mrs. Weasley sputtered. "You," she looked at Fred, "and you," looking at Hermione, "allowed me to set you up with all those family members? How could you? I want to know, right now, tell me about this relationship of yours."

"We'll tell you," Fred promised, "just as soon as you unburn that bacon." The couple laughed quietly as they watched her run to the stove to remove breakfast. Then they regaled her with the story of their relationship, from the heartbreak over Ron to their first kiss to the proposal the night before. Mrs. Weasley watched as they held hands, she noticed the loving looks they gave each other while the other spoke, and tears stung her eyes when her son placed a chaste kiss against his love's lips. She wiped her eyes before speaking.

"I'm so happy for you," she told them with a smile. "Now, are there any other surprises you'd like to spring on your poor, old mother? A baby perhaps? No? Good. We'll get to the wedding planning just as soon as we've all had a spot of breakfast. Fred, go round up the troops."

A goofy smile stretched across his face, Fred stood, kissed his fiancee's cheek, then his mother's before making his way through the house. He was absolutely giddy. Everything seemed to be working out perfectly - he got the girl, his mother approved, and the blind dates from hell would finally come to an end.

"I can't believe I never thought of Fred," he heard his mother say as he walked back to the table. "Just never occurred to me."

Fred sidled up beside her, wrapping an arm around his mother. "Luckily we figured that one out on our own. We are a brilliant pair of minds, after all."


End file.
